


And Through You, I See Myself

by AubreyDorst



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Ericky, Germany, M/M, Nerik, Nicky and Erik, Origin Story, conversion therapy, whats their ship name idk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:20:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24391195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AubreyDorst/pseuds/AubreyDorst
Summary: Nicky and Erik’s origin story.Nicholas Hemmick feels like he will never be able to escape. His abusive household, his lifelong curse, his sexuality. But then a gift is given to him. An escape. To Germany. To Erik Klose. To his future. And the rest is history
Relationships: Nicky Hemmick/Erik Klose
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	And Through You, I See Myself

Nicholas Hemmick is tired. Tired and afraid and tired. The drag of his eyelids, the heavy feeling in his chest weighed him down like nothing else. He was a mess of limbs and nerves and uncertainty. And his house, it didn’t feel like a home anymore. And his parents, they didn’t feel like his family anymore. He was alone in this great wide world, and he knew, deep in his gut, that no one would ever understand him. No one would really, truly see him for who he was. No one would see the aching chasm in his chest, the darkness that dwelled within him. No. He wouldn’t show it to a single soul. He would never let anyone know how lonely he was, how he ached with every breath. 

And that nausea, it rose back up into his throat when he thought about his future, when he thought about anything more than this moment, this breath, this heartbeat. What kind of future was it, this lie? What kind of life would he lead? Hiding, scared and untrue. Being with a woman, a wife. It was a future he didn’t want, a life and lie he didn’t want to lead. He thought about the girls he dated, the girls he forced himself to kiss. And the taste of bile rested at the back of his throat, waited and threatened.

And moments like this, it felt like an inevitability. Death. A life ended rather than lived in agony and hurt and suffering. 

It felt like a betrayal. Both options.

Would he betray himself? Force himself to fit into the box that the world had made for him? The box that felt like a cage, a trap.

Would he betray his family and everything he knew? Forcing himself to be alone forever? Pushing away the people who were supposed to care for him? Who were supposed to know him inside and out and still love him.

Would he betray everything? End it all? Say goodbye to every opportunity and hope? Would his selfishness follow him beyond the grave? Would it make a difference if he died, if he ended it all? Would anyone even understand why?

Would he betray Him? The Father? The Lord?

Had he been betrayed by God? Had he been created like this and then left to suffer, left to hurt and ache and feel so much, too much?

The uncertainty of it all pushed at him until he felt like he would break. It beared down so heavily on his soul that Nicky didn’t know which way was up. He was drowning and he couldn’t find the surface, he couldn’t even glimpse the light at the end of the tunnel. It was all dark and cold and painful.

And the world happened around him. Life went on like it was nothing, like there wasn’t this debilitating pain so deep in his soul he would never be free of it.

The sounds of the classroom around him were muffled, muted like water flowed around him. Encapsulating him in a bubble of numbness for now, for ever.

“Nicholas.” Ms. Weber’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, out of the darkness of his mind.

When he looked around, Nicky realized he was alone in the room, the door shut and the unmistakable look of worry and concern flooding his teachers face. The classroom was silent and the silence beared down on him like the strong unrelenting hands of his father. Pushing at his shoulders, screaming in his face to be better, do better, be different. Fix himself. Change the parts that were wrong, that were broken.

And that brokenness, it lived inside of him like a curse, like a never ending nightmare. It overtook him. It was him.

“Nicholas?”

“Yes?” His words were slurred, sounded foreign in his own ears. They sounded as choked and pained as his heart felt in that moment.

“I’m worried about you.”

“There’s nothing to-”

“Don’t do that.” Her voice was cold and warm. Fierce and soft. So caring and concerned that Nicky felt the tears well in his eyes. The moisture that always was standing guard, waiting for him to break. The dam waiting to rush forward.

Her soft hands enveloped his as she slid into the seat of the small desk that was directly in front of his own. The seat he stayed frozen in. 

“I want to help you.”

_ I want to help you.  _ The words were a ticking time bomb, an uncertain light in his dark words. They were almost the same words his parents had uttered, almost the same thing the priest had said. They brought so many memories, so much pain, so much fear. And his heart contracted and started to beat rapidly.

He couldn’t help it, the withdrawal of his hands from hers. It was a knee-jerk reaction, unwarranted he knew but necessary for survival. He could still feel it all. The shock therapy, the brutalization of it all. The bruises that had healed like they were never there, the pain that was short lived and long lasting. The fear that held his heart in a vice grip.

The urges and feelings that were pushed deep down in his soul but never changed. No, they never left. No matter how much he wished and prayed, they stayed with him like a cement block attached to his legs. They pulled him down and down and down and all he wanted was to breathe. All he wanted was to be free from this, from all of it.

“I can’t be helped.” Nicky croaked out, the moment slowing down to ooze like molasses around him. He couldn’t be helped, they had tried but he was incurable. He was unfixable. He was broken. And that quiet part of his soul that told him he was alright, that insisted that he was whole. It fought and fought but sometimes he couldn’t hear it over the screams that echoed in his brain. Those thoughts that had been planted so deep in his soul that he thought he would never be able to tear them out. There was something wrong with him. He was the devil's spawn. His entire being was a  _ sin,  _ he was a blemish on the fabric of this life.

“Don’t.” Ms. Weber barked, her tone was harsh and made him jump. But her eyes, those brown eyes were warm as they bored into him, into his soul. “There’s nothing wrong with you Nicholas, nothing that needs to be fixed.”

The words were a balm, but they weren’t enough. They soothed but they weren’t strong enough to heal. 

“Let me help you, Nicky.”

Her voice was soft and pleading and her use of his nickname sent him for a loop.

“There’s an exchange program this upcoming year. I know it’ll be your senior year and you will miss out on the usual senior festivities.” She continued when he didn’t reply. “It’s not much, and I know it’s not ideal but it’ll get you out of there, out of your house. Just one more semester, one more summer and then you can go. Can you do that?”

The offer took him off guard. She didn’t want to change him. She didn’t want to  _ fix  _ him. She wanted to get him out of there, out of that hell hole. Out of the place that was supposed to be his sanctuary, but was really his prison.

Could it be true? Could it be real? Was this just another trap? Had his father gotten through to her, convinced her to help? Was help something he could accept? Would his parents sign on to him leaving, escaping the hurt and pain they caused him?

“Nicholas, please say something.”

“Why?” He choked out, the words a plea, a secret wish.

“I remember meeting you your freshman year. You were such a bright light, you were the embodiment of sunshine. And that light within you, I’ve watched it dim so quickly that first year. And I’ve watched it get darker and darker, just hoping that something would happen, anything to help bring that back. I’ve always known how much of an escape German has been for you.” Ms. Weber swallowed loudly, her throat bobbing and her eyes filling with moisture. 

She cleared her throat and straightened up instantly, her soft eyes growing clinical, distant. And the pain that lingered there, Nicky knew it. He felt it like it was his own. 

“You are a stellar student, Nicholas. And I think with the proper education you could really flourish with the German language. I think this exchange program would really help your future and open up doors for you to pursue a career in interpretation or international relations. I will recommend you to the program director and will send a letter home to your parents, detailing why your academic future will be greatly improved by this. I’ll set up everything with the host family, I’ll get you into the program. I’ll just need your help in convincing your parents. It’ll be expensive but-”

Her eyes were clear, burrowing into his own like a silent plea. “But I think it’s necessary. For you. For your future.”

“Do you know-” He hesitated, looking for the right words. Grasping at the straws and fumbling for the confession that lived just out of reach. “Are you doing this because I’m-”

“I think you’re a wonderful student, Nicholas. And I see great things in your future. Please at least consider my offer.” The words were clinical and practiced but the look in her eyes was warm and understanding and it threatened to unravel him completely.

She saw him and accepted him and wanted to  _ help _ him in a way that no one had before. 

And in that moment, all he could do was nod. All he could do was nod and nod and nod as she got up from the desk and passed him the brochure. The glossy pamphlet blurred in his vision, becoming heavy in his hands. A weight that he just couldn’t shake, that he didn’t want to shake.

And that hope, the hope that he buried. The hope that he didn’t let himself feel, it resurfaced. It burned so brightly in his chest that he felt like he would explode. 

German had always been his escape, his way to express his truth in plain side. His way to hide his feelings through language, through a language that his parents couldn’t understand. All those journals tucked into his desk, all that broken German. All the smeared ink, the pages dotted with tears. Wasn’t it fitting that it would continue to be his salvation? Was it fate at play or just dumb luck? He hadn’t known when choosing to study German his freshman year that it would come to this. Did his teacher realize how much of an outlet the language had become? Did she realize the gift she had been giving him for three years, the gift she had given him for this upcoming year? 

As he gathered his books, his bag and himself. As he tucked that pamphlet safely into his backpack, slipping it behind the hard cover of his German textbook, Nicky hoped this was it. This could be his way out. This could be his salvation.

It had to be. There was no other choice. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy this!  
> I’ve reread the series and some of the extra content to get this as close to canon as possible but it’s my headcanon idea of how they met. Since there’s not much characterization of Erik, I took some liberties with him <3  
> I’ve always looked for good Nicky/Erik fanfic but it’s rare so I decided I’d write my own!  
> Thanks for reading. Much love xoxoxo


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